Sanctuary Jam
by thewrote
Summary: Nora knew that Deacon would love the game. Piper, with some convincing, would play along. She had not expected Danse to rise to the challenge. Though, in all honesty, he had been less than enthused about the idea of basketball in the beginning.


It was with unnecessary secrecy and great glee that Nora smuggled the still plump basketball back to Sanctuary. Piper wasn't bothered by the perfectly round protrusion from her companion's pack, chalking it up to any of the dozen or so odd things she insisted on salvaging on their runs.

When they broke through the front lines of defense, it was difficult for Nora to contain her excitement with the plan she had formulated on the walk back to town. She knew exactly who to consult and was itching to begin working on her newest pet project.

With help, Nora was able to clear a large area just behind Sanctuary of rocks, stumps and logs, declaring the site to be Off Limits and Top Secret to keep the others from peeking. While Sturges went to work building two hoops out of spare steel and fish netting, Nora had painted the firm ground sparsely decorated with dead grass, using a long expired can of blue paint from an abandoned hardware store outside of Diamond City. The lines weren't even, and she could only guess on the correct pacing between each post, but all in all it was a pretty close replica of the courts she had played on as a young girl.

And to think; her father had told her nothing would come from a stint in high school sports!

"It's fun!" Nora explained to everyone over breakfast after three days of agonizing secrecy leading up to the big reveal. Her description of the game had been met largely with blank stares and more than a few sniggers. "It'll be a great way to unwind and relax," she mumbled into her cereal.

Hancock was less than convinced and promised her that he enjoyed his methods for unwinding and relaxing just fine while Curie insisted on being present at all games to ensure that all safety protocols were properly adhered to.

Deacon, as Nora expected, had been the first to volunteer for an inaugural round and started off eagerly for the court. Piper, who couldn't resist Nora's pouty face, begrudgingly followed the two on the short walk past the cluster of houses that formed Sanctuary's cul-de-sac. Curie tagged along behind the three, towing her medical kit and a lawn chair in their wake.

"Ahh, look zere! Monsieur Danse, how lovely to zee you out of your armor!"

Nora reeled, startled by Curie's shouting. Had she said Danse out of armor? As in Paladin Danse?

"Solider, is this what you've been wasting your time with the last few days?" Danse folded his arms over his chest and glowered down at the former vault dweller, his towering frame adding to the weight of his explicit annoyance.

Danse had been missing at the breakfast table that morning, the reason why told by the grease stains on his undershirt. Normally blockaded behind his suit of armor, it was a little disorienting to see him in a pair of jeans and dirty up to the elbows.

Nora laughed and jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "I only stood you up for that one mission, this was really important."

"I fail to see how this - " Danse motioned with a broad sweep of his arm to the makeshift court behind her " - is important."

"You're just afraid that I would kick your ass!" Deacon leaned into the lunge, stretching his arms towards the sky with extended fingers. Somewhere between breakfast and Nora begging Piper to come, he had changed into a pair of bright green shorts and a ratty Nuka Cola t-shirt.

Nora bit down on her lower lip to suppress the laugh that bubbled in her throat. Deacon doing yoga was almost funny enough to risk the wrath of Danse misinterpreting her laugh. Almost.

Danse rose to the threat, his voice taut as the veins in his bicep. "I assure you that I am not afraid of you kicking my ass." The last word fell out of his mouth clumsily, the swear word sounding just as foreign to everyone else as it did to him. "As if I wanted to waste my time."

Deacon could sense that he was getting somewhere, but he simply arched forward to press his palms against the scratchy grass next to his foot. He looked cooly over his shoulder at Piper and Nora in turn before settling on Danse.

"Whatever. This game is for people who are a little more athletically inclined and we'd really like to get on with it. Do you mind?" He rose with a final stretch of his arms and adjusted the crotch of his shorts.

The surface of Danse's icy facade trembled beneath the weight of the insult.

Piper pressed her fingers against her cheeks and squinted into the morning sun, hiding her laugh behind a question to Curie: "How many stimpacks did you bring along?"

"Actually!" Nora clapped her hands together to punctuate the thought, desperate to diffuse the faction rivalry brewing in their midsts. "It works better if there is an even number of us. What do you say, Paladin?"

She turned to Danse, digging her elbow into his side with an obvious wink to let him know she was on his side. Nora knew he would bow out, making an excuse about his work and leave with only a few insults muttered under his breath. Games weren't really his thing.

"Fine."

Danse's monotone concession was promptly followed by Piper screaming, "I'm on Danse's team!"

Nora shot Deacon a horrified look, only to find the man grinning and jogging in place. "You're supposed to be the one good at this," he reminded her.

Nora took the offered carton of purified water from Curie and gulped greedily. There wasn't a single part of her that wasn't on fire and she could tell from the way her vault suit tightened when she flexed her muscles that it was stuck to her skin with sweat.

"This is all your fault," she chastised Deacon. She slapped his hands away as he reached for water, warning Curie with her eyes that it would be best to let him suffer.

"I didn't know that he would take it so seriously!" Deacon whined.

Nora winced at the sound of the ball bouncing on the dirt, the opposing team's laugh sending waves of fear through her. They had huddled under the far hoop after Curie had insisted on a break, the two looking thick as thieves casting wicked glances at the medic station.

"They are coming up with more ways to torture us," Nora surmised.

"Are you two ready?" Piper teased, her hand on her hip and a smug smile to match Danse.

"I didn't pack my funeral getup," Deacon called back as he swaggered onto the court.

Nora took another sip of water and turned to the medic. "Did you bring anything stronger?" she whispered. Maybe a little extra pep in her step would get her through the next round.

Curie handed Nora a stimpack with a smile that could rival the sun's own brightness. "Like zis, Mademoiselle?"

Deacon whistled to get Nora's attention, motioning her to his side across from Piper and Danse. Nora glumly did as she was bid.

"What are we playing to again? 25?"

"We are already at 21," Danse reminded her. As if they had been practicing, he held out a flat hand and Piper reached over her head to give him a high five, the coordinated routine exactly what Deacon needed to push him back over the edge. His stamina returned and he rubbed his hands across the sheen of his shaved head. The wig had come off after a rough encounter with Piper's offensive maneuvers.

"I have a really fun idea," Nora interjected. "What if, like, we traded teams? Wouldn't that be super fun?"

"You're a traitor!" Deacon hissed.

"It's too late for that, it wouldn't make sense to trade teams. Sorry, solider." To his credit, Danse looked like he felt a little bad for Nora.

Clearly, he felt more than a little bad; in a show of good sportsmanship, he handed the ball to his rivals. "Why don't you two start this round?"

Nora bit back a scathing comment about what she thought of his compassion, pulling the ball into her chest and stalking out of bounds. It took her a moment to think about their score. She and Deacon were only a dozen points behind, it couldn't possible be that hard to catch up. After all, she had been MVP during her 10th year in school! Did that award mean nothing?

Nora rolled her shoulders, breathing a little easier as she felt the tense muscles relax. She cast Deacon a conspicuous look and mouthed: "Alpha, Tango, Niner." The two had agreed to use code words when discussing their plan. Not that they had a plan or any idea what the codes meant to the other. It was a form of psychology warfare, the only tactic the two shared an understanding of.

Deacon nodded sagely, his arms up in the air ready to intercept her toss.

Nora bounced the ball once. Twice. She shifted her weight, rocking between her feet and wiggling her hips. She bounced the ball a third time. Squeezed it between her palms to check its firmness, a look of mild concern furrowing her brow. A fourth bounce. "I think the ball's gone flat?"

Danse relaxed and took a step towards her. " Let me have a look - "

Too fast for him to correct his trajectory, Nora spun to the side, hurling the ball overhanded straight into Deacon's chest. Their lack of real communication didn't hamper his quick recovery, although the play had taken him just as much by surprise. He was off in an instant, dribbling the ball down the court.

Nora darted towards Piper, her arms stretched in an effort to keep the reporter at bay.

"That was a cheap move, Blue," Piper scolded, her stern face doing nothing to keep the laugh from her voice.

"What was a cheap move was you jumping on Danse's team! What happened to best friends stick together?" Nora was more than a little bitter about the way the teams were divided that had everything to do with losing.

Piper puffed her cheeks and made a sound between pursed lips. "I'm not stupid. No best friends on the court."

"He shoots - "

Deacon squatted low, pushing up with enough momentum to help him sail in the air. A loose shoelace trailed behind him, measuring his jump with its outstretched length.

" - and he - "

Nora turned, her arms pumped in the air for a victory screech.

Danse's arm came into view, intercepting Deacon's path through the air. Nora yelled in dismay but it was too late. The ball was out of Deacon's hand, the ball sweeping up towards the hoop in a smooth arch. Then the ball was down, a high pitched thwamp vibrating between Danse's hand and the ball's rough, bumpy surface.

Deacon's feet touched back on earth, his driving power sending him sprawling face first against the ground, the impact against his bare knees making him regret his decision to wear shorts.

"Trop bien! Wonderful!" Curie, who had been cheering faithfully for both teams, rose from her chair clapping enthusiastically.

Nora squatted next to Deacon, ignoring the sound of more high fives. "How you feelin', Icarus?"

He grunted, letting his limp body work against her effort to roll him over onto his back. "Who is Icarus?"

"Never mind." Nora laid down next to him, stiff as a board in all her joints. "I'm going to hang out with you down here."

"Mademoiselle Nora! Monsieur Deacon!" Finished with her celebration, Curie flitted above the pair, a stimpack in each hand. "Are you hurt?"

"Emotionally?" Deacon deadpanned. "Yes."

Nora laughed and shooed Curie away with a promise that nothing was hurt other than their fragile and rapidly deflating egos.

"Umm, we aren't done yet," Piper called from across the court.

Any answer from the downtrodden team was drowned out by a surprise guest: "What is this game puny humans play? Strong will help!"

Deacon curled into a ball, instinctively protecting his vital organs. "I think we are done here," he whispered.


End file.
